And I Just Waved
by magnanimosityy
Summary: He wasn't handsome. He was Beautiful. And I didn't know if that made me gay, or just weird. But I did know that he wasn't a girl, and I did know that I was falling for him. (M - A precationary measure for now.) (I decided to use 3pov going on because it was more comfortable)
1. Chapter 1

_**1.**_

"STILINSKI! BENCH!"

In a way, I was relieved to be off of the field. It wasn't like I really knew what I was doing. I just kind of, ran around, looking at things, doing my best not to fall.

My best wasn't very good most of the time…

"Yeah, Coach," I took a sigh of relief as I trudged over in the direction of the single metal bench on the side of the lacrosse field. It was my bench. My name wasn't on it. I hadn't paid for it, or brought it here, but it was mine. I was the only one who ever used it. Whether it was by choice or command, I occupied that bench more than any other person on the entire team.

I say all of that to emphasize the fact that it was a bit shocking, to say the least, when I saw another person sitting in my spot. Sure, it was a big bench, and there was room for me to sit, but they were in _my_ spot.

I got closer before I said anything. The person, a girl, didn't seem to notice me walking over, having been too into the book she was reading. I couldn't see much of her face, her hair falling in front of almost half of it, but I could easily see that she was pretty.

She wasn't pale, but she wasn't tan either. I guess I would call it cream. Yeah, that works. Her skin was a nice cream color. And her hair, it was long. The ends of the strands hiding her face were just grazing her knees. And it was brown. But not just the normal brown. It was chocolate.

I know the color of chocolate anywhere, because I have to avoid it. Sweets aren't great for ADHD, sugar rush causing and all they are.

So yeah, she was a pretty, girl. Not _Lydia_ pretty, but pretty none the less.

I was just about to sit on the other side of the bench when…

"Shit!"

And of course, because my luck with girls is forever and endlessly nonexistent, I trip over my shoelace and fall on my face. And when I say that, I don't mean it metaphorically. No, my face _actually_ hit the dirt.

Yeah, that's just how life is for me.

So, after spitting the grass and dirt out of my mouth, I did my best at pushing myself off of the ground. There was no use, though. I pretty much just fell back on my face when I felt something soft grab my arm.

Jerking my arm away, flailing in the opposite direction, and with the lack of grace only I could display, I let out a startled yelp.

"Sorry. Sorry."

And the warmth was gone.

I looked up to see the girl…

Wait!

"You're not at girl."

She… _He_… frowned for a second, before rolling his eyes. Then, he reached his hand out to help me up. I took it, amazed that a guy could have such feminine features.

He sighed. "Are you alright?"

I nodded. No words could find their way to my lips. It wasn't like I was nervous. I was just, shocked.

"Ok, well… yeah…"

I was about to thank him. I swear I was. I just didn't know how to make words. But it was too late anyway. He was walking off towards the field.

Towards Danny.

And Danny was wrapping his hands around his waist.

And then they kissed.

And I couldn't stop myself from looking.

And so I _kept_ on looking.

And looking.

I watched until Jackson turned to look at me. Then I looked away as if I had been caught doing something I wasn't supposed to.

Which, I guess I was. Kind of…

"Dude? You alright? You fell pretty hard," Scott threw his arm around my shoulders as he spoke, trying to match my previous line of vision with his own.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," I offered only half interested in speaking on the topic of yet another one of my epic stumbles. What I really wanted to talk about was just who exactly this feminine looking dude that Danny was practically drooling over. "Who's that?"

Scott, ever so observant, had no clue who I was talking about. He didn't even have to say anything for me to know that he wasn't aware of who I was looking at. So I pointed, doing my best not to hit him in the side of the head. I mean, I had to at least give him _some_ credit. Ever since he and Allison had broken up, he had at least been making a noble effort to pay more attention to things other than her.

Well… as noble of an effort as Scott could. But even so…

"Him, dude. The guy with Danny."

Looking where I gestured, Scott's face lit up. "Ohhhhh. That's Danny's new boyfriend. Uhhh… Ariel I think. Why?"

Ariel.

Jesus, even this guy's name sounds like a girl. I think his parents had an agenda.

"Nothing, I just… he… was here when I tripped. He helped me up," was my articulate response.

Not too long after discovering his name, everyone went to the locker rooms to shower and change. I, as I always did, just changed and left out. No use in showering just to put used clothes back on, go home, and shower again.

So I headed out.

Normally, I would wait around for Scott, but today, he had to get to work and said he would just ride his bike, which made no sense to me. Personally, if I was him, I would just run to work. It would take him all of five minutes. But that's the difference between me and him I guess.

Common sense.

Oh well, didn't make a difference to me. It gave me more time to see Lydia.

Yeah, I timed it.

Lydia walked out of the school building at exactly 4:46 every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday. I still don't know what it was that had her staying after on those specific days, but details didn't matter to me. All I cared about was seeing, and maybe even speaking, to her.

It had been two years. Two years since the first time Lydia Martin ever spoke to me. Two years since my life began to truly have meaning. Two years…

And in those two years, I hadn't spoken to her once more. It's not that I didn't want to. God knows I wanted to. And it wasn't that I couldn't. Half the time I couldn't shut the hell up.

I just didn't know _how_ to. What would I say?

"Hey, Lydia. Remember me? Stiles. I let you borrow my jacket so your hair wouldn't get wet… two years ago."

Because that was it. That was the only form of interaction the two of us had had since… ever. I gave her my jacket, and she said thanks.

Thanks.

And I never got that jacket back.

But the jacket didn't matter to me. I wanted to speak to her again.

And today, I had decided that I was going to. So as soon as I heard the doors to the school open, I knew my time was limited. Because just as she walked out at 4:46, she waited for Jackson at his car for five minutes. Which gave me four to talk to her.

"Lydia," I yelled out, waving frantically. I looked up at my hand, only to blush a little at my over enthusiasm, and immediately put it down. But I called out again. This time as I walked over.

"Lydia, hey!"

Then, the impossible happened. She smiled.

I swear my heart stopped when the blinding white flash of beautiful white pearls she called her teeth were exposed to the light of day. Time stood still as I trudged on.

Lydia hadn't smiled at me in two years. Not since she told me 'thanks.'

I picked my pace up a little as I noticed that she pushed away from the Porsche. Was this really happening? Was God really going to make this the happiest day of my life?

Was Lydia fucking Martin about to talk to me?

I took a deep breath, and I closed my eyes. I don't know why I closed them; it just felt like the thing to do; like it was a clarifying moment. That if I closed them, and opened them again, only then would I know for sure that this moment was real. Only then could I be positive that I wasn't dreaming this.

Because this… this was a dream come true.

At least it was; until I opened my eyes again. Then, it became a nightmare. And just like the one dream that we all have; you know, the one where we fall off of a cliff and don't wake up until just when were about to hit the ground? Yeah, that was the one. I was having it, but I was wide awake. And the ground, yeah it came before I woke up. And I didn't just hit it. I splattered onto it. But I wasn't dead; no I was very much alive.

I know this because I could feel my heart. I could feel it as it shattered into a million tiny pieces. And then those pieces, they were shattered into dust. And the dust, it flew away.

Gone with the wind.

A sweet wind that I only caught in passing. Just as I did Lydia, every single day.

She was my wind.

My air.

My life.

Passing me by once more, forever, and eternally.

I felt the wind leave my lungs as the heat of embarrassment filled my cheeks. I turned around to watch her stroll right on by, probably to greet Jackson with a kiss. She was probably going to greet Jackson with _my _kiss.

I took a sigh of defeat as I rotated to follow her with my eyes, already prepared to have my insides slowly pulled from my body. But, once I finally looked, I was surprised to not have seen Jackson, possessively groping at her in a way he did only when I was present.

"ARIEL!"

So that _was_ his name.

I stood by as Lydia went up and pulled Mr. Androgyny into tight embrace. At first, I was a little taken back by seeing Lydia so warm with someone other than Allison, but, then I put two and two together. If this Ariel dude was dating Danny, Jackson's best friend, then it only made sense that he hung out with Jackson, and more importantly, Lydia.

For crying out loud, the guy couldn't have been here for long without me ever having seen him, and he was already cooler than I had ever been. Not that I really cared about that. No, what I _did _care about however was that he had done something that I, in all my years of living, had never been able to even dream of doing.

He had gotten Lydia Martin to come to _him_.

"Gay guys have it so easy…" I muttered to myself, shaking my head only slightly.

"What are you talking about, Stiles?"

I jumped at hearing Scott's voice so unexpectedly. He was getting better and better at sneaking up on me lately.

"Nothing, just…" I sighed and threw my arms out in a wild gesture towards Lydia. "I have been trying to get Lydia to just _look_ at me for the past two years with absolutely no success."

"There was that one time at lunch-"

I stopped him with a dejected look.

"Like I was saying… Lydia hasn't even looked at me for two WHOLE years," my arms were up above my head, "and this guy shows up from God knows where, and she's all over him."

Scott had a small smirk on his face, the one he got whenever I ranted about Lydia.

"What?" I said with as much venom in my voice as possible. Which, coming from me, wasn't much.

Scott shook his head a bit and laughed. "Uh, I think he's gay dude."

At that very moment, I wanted nothing more than to banish my best friend of many years to a deep, dark abyss of no return. Leave it to Scott to make things worse, by stating exactly why they were worse in the first place.

Pinching the bride of my nose, I closed my eyes as I spoke. "Yes, Scott, I am aware. That is what I mean."

When I saw the patented 'I don't understand' expression lurch its way onto Scott's face, I went on.

"What I'm trying to say is I could get girls, namely Lydia, to talk to me too, if I liked guys." I said that as if it were common knowledge. Which, in my humble opinion, it was. Or, at least it should be.

Gay guys get all the girls. Girls want to hang out with them. They want to go places and do things with them. I'm even more than partially convinced that on some instances, they do a little bit more than just 'hang out.' But no one ever takes me seriously when I suggest that.

I distinctly remember Allison once telling me that it would 'contradict the meaning of what it is to be a truly gay man to have sex with a woman.'

My ass.

If Lydia was all over me the way she was hugging this new guy, I don't care if I was gay, straight, bi, pan, rainbow, or what the hell ever. I would get turned the fuck on.

It defied all laws of nature to not be.

It's LYDIA FREAKING MARTIN!

Somewhere in getting lost in my train of thought, I look over to Scott to see that his confusion had been replaced by something else. I want to call it contemplativeness, but then, Scott's never really one to contemplate much of anything.

I'm not even sure that he knows what contemplate means.

"What, Scott?" I ask, only half interested in finding out what hair brained theory he could be concocting in that undoubtedly vacant mind of his.

He narrowed his eyes at me. I didn't know what was about to come out of his mouth but I braced myself for the worst.

"Just… you know you can tell me anything. Right?"

That wasn't what I had been expecting.

"Uh… yeah… dude. Why?"

"Nothing," Scott said shaking his head. Suddenly he turned and waved. "Gotta get to work, dude. See ya'."

I would have spent more time trying to decipher the strange ways of Scott McCall but, the very second I decided to delve into thought, something pushed me.

I knew without looking what it was. I had been pushed by it so many times before; it was almost like this shove had a certain identity. A distinct feel.

"Move it, Stilinski!"

I flailed my arms in attempt to regain my balance, to no avail of course. I fell enough on my own accord; I didn't need anyone's help tripping, stumbling, or falling. I did fine by myself.

So, as I waved my arms around, doing my best to grab onto thin air in order to prevent from falling, of course I grab onto someone's shirt.

Or course.

And it would only make sense that said person goes crashing down with me. Because what type of public humiliation doesn't involve me dragging at least one other person down with me.

And so there I was. Hand tangled up in someone else's shirt. On the ground for the second time today. And I could feel everyone's eyes on me. And in that moment, I realized that after two years, Lydia Martin was looking at me. And my heart jumped.

And then, I realized that after two years, Lydia Martin was looking at me… because I had made an idiot of myself.

… And my heart fell.

"I should kick your ass, Stilinski. What the hell is wrong with-"

"Come on, Jackson," The voice sounded familiar, but it wasn't anyone I knew. And it sounded close, so it wasn't anyone standing over me. Which only left one person.

I sat up slowly and looked to my right. I was right. It was him. Ariel. His name was Ariel. I needed to remember that. Apparently the universe wanted me to fail at life whenever he was around, so the least I could do would be to commit him name to memory.

"It's not his fault _you_ pushed him."

Damn right it wasn't.

Jackson took a moment to analyze the situation. I have come to realize, over the years, that Jackson isn't nearly as spur-of-the-moment as you would think. No, everything he says, and does, is well thought out. I remember one time, this one kid spilled soda on Jackson's absolute favorite jacket. It was a cream color, with a ton of bronze buttons and whatnot. Needless to say, it looked, and most likely was, expensive. And this kid spilled red soda all over it.

Now, everyone there, including me, expected Jackson to explode in an epic meltdown of gargantuan proportions. We all thought there would be yelling, and hitting, and bleeding, and crying (from the soda kid of course). But there wasn't much of anything. All Jackson did was close his eyes, take a deep breath, shrug the jacket off and toss it on the trashcan.

Because of course there was no way to get a stain of out a jacket of such expense.

And that was it. At least until the next day. Because the next day, we all found out that the kid was suspended for throwing his soda on Jackson. _Throwing _it! We all saw. Jackson bumped into him. And the poor soul was suspended for a week.

Yeah, that was when I realized just how evil Jackson really was.

So when Jackson simply huffed and walked off in the direction of his beloved Porsche, it didn't really surprise me much.

What did surprise me though, was the fact that Lydia didn't seem to even spare me a fleeting glance before she trailed off behind her boyfriend.

I never knew just what it was she saw in him. I mean, other than the good looks, popularity, and money. But once you got past all of that, what was left? It wasn't like he had a great personality to fall back on should he suddenly get hit by a bus, leaving him horribly disfigured, and poor after having to pay for all of his medical bills.

No, then he'd just be a poor, ugly, asshole.

"You ok?"

There that soft hand was again. I knew who it was. I had never felt a hand so soft before today, but that's only because Lydia has never touched me.

Getting off topic there…

So, I looked up and saw him looking down at me. I know that I had already come to the conclusion that he was a guy, but, if I was honest, I still stand by my opinion from earlier on that day.

He was pretty.

He had skin better than most girls I knew… well saw. The only girl I really knew was Allison. His hair was long and silky looking. Brown, not dark like Scott's, but not light either.

But what got me were his eyes. Big, wide, and full of innocence. Brown. A soft brown. Nothing about him screamed aggressiveness. Everything exuded a gentle air.

It was calming.

I realized that I had been staring when he withdrew his hand and smiled.

"Still think I look like a girl?"

I felt my face heat up instantly.

"NO! No, I can tell you're obviously… NOT a girl. I'm sure you have all the right parts and everything to vouch for that…" I brought my hand to my face as soon as the words left my mouth. "Dude, I'm sorry. I just-"

"It's fine," he laughed. I wish I had a laugh as smooth as his. When I laugh I always sound like I'm nervous, or confused. Which, half the time, I am. But that's beside the point.

"Thanks for earlier." I don't know why it came out just then. Something just took over my body and made me say it. Something always takes over my body and makes me say _something_. I can't remember the last time I was silent for more than a few seconds.

I stood up, doing my best to look as coordinated as I could. I'm almost positive that I didn't look in the least bit what I wanted to, but I made it to my feet without falling again. That was a win in my book. Then I held my hand out.

Ariel, without hesitation, took it and shook. He didn't have a very strong grip. In fact, it was downright girly.

But I guess it kind of went with everything else about him.

"Stiles," I offered, smiling. Or at least, I think I was smiling. For all I know, and with my luck, I could have been scowling at him.

"Ariel."

"I know."

Stupid.

"Ok…"

"I mean, I found out."

Worse.

His eyes narrowed and he began to nod slowly. Smile not dissipating.

My palms were starting to sweat. I thought that was weird. I didn't have any reason to be nervous. I wasn't nervous. At least, I don't think I was…

I wasn't.

Why would I have been? The only time I got nervous was around pretty girls or Derek. And no, before you ask, they were _not_ for the same reason.

Derek, while I'm sure is seen as attractive by many teen girls the world over, scared me. I wasn't attracted to him. He was just, nerve-wracking.

Wiping my clammy palms on my jeans, I swallowed.

"I didn't know you're name earlier, so I asked my friend. He told me."

"I understood what you meant." The laugh again. I've never been so jealous of someone's vocal patterns before in my life.

"Sorry about the whole girl thing," I added, hoping I hadn't offended him. Much.

He waved me off. "Yeah, yeah its fine. I get it a lot."

For some reason, that bothered me. No guy, gay or not, should get called a girl so much that they become accustomed to it. It was… awkward.

So I said the first thing I thought of, hoping it would be of comfort. Not that he looked upset or anything. So I don't really know why I felt the need to say it... but I did.

"It's probably just 'cause you're like, really pretty."

His eyes widened. My face felt like it was on fire.

He opened his mouth to say something when…

"Ariel, babe. You coming?"

We both looked over to see Danny making his way to us.

"Yeah, I'm coming now." He turned to me with a soft smile. "Bye, Stiles."

I wanted to say something. I wanted to say bye back. But MAN, talk about a dry mouth. I could barely breathe, let alone speak. So I settled for a pathetic wave.

And I kept waving, even after he turned and walked off.

I stood there waving so long that Danny shot me a look of utter confusion.

Jackson just glared.

And I just waved.

_**So... this is, i know, not a very epic start. But the idea just came to me, and i liked it. So before it was gone, i had to do something. I'll plan it out more, but this is just so i have something to build from. So, let me know how it was. OHHHH and i based Ariel off of a real person, looks wise. If you want to know what he looks like, his name is Willy Cartier. Google him. For now, focus on clean shaven pics.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**_(Short note: I decided to ontinue in third person. I am much more comfortable writing this way. Hope you dont mind.)_**

**_2._**

Stiles sat on the sidelines for practice again. He wasn't quite sure exactly what it was that got him sat out this time, but it didn't really matter. He got sat out just about every day. He didn't expect anything out of the ordinary today.

It _was_ unusually boring today however. He tried to pass the time by finding odd shapes in the clouds, or counting the blades of grass around him, but nothing could hold his attention for too long. So he started fidgeting.

He twiddled his thumbs, bit his lip, made odd little noises; anything to keep his mind preoccupied.

"Are you okay?"

"Huh?" Stiles looked around, now chewing on his thumbnail, to see who was talking to him. That's when he saw Ariel taking a seat next to him. He had on this hoodie, but it looked like it was at least two sizes too big for his small frame to be wearing.

He smiled at Stiles before he spoke. "You look nervous." He gestured to the way Stiles was pretty much vibrating from side to side.

Stiles' face reddened and he stilled immediately. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop it either.

"I… uh… it's just hard to stay still for a long time," he offered weakly. Not many people knew about Stiles' ADHD. He didn't like to tell people. So everyone just assumed he was weird for no reason, when really, Stiles was just trying to keep from going insane half the time. The medicine helped, but only so much. And he didn't like having to take it, so he would skip it sometimes. Those were the days things didn't go well for him.

Ariel nodded, but didn't say anything. He had this sort of knowing look in his eye. Like he knew everything that had just ran through Stiles' head at that very moment just by him having offered that simple sentence. So Stiles got nervous.

"I mean, I can… sit still. It's just, I get bored. Really easily. And then I start to do stuff that irritates people like talk too much-"

Ariel turned to him with a small smirk on his face. "Like now?"

Stiles blushed again and looked down; all but breaking his teeth with the amount of force he snapped his jaw shut with.

And, for the first time in a very long time, Stiles sat almost completely still, and completely silent. Almost. He _did_ play with the hem of his jersey for a little while, which led to twiddling his thumbs again, which led to him humming.

So Stiles didn't _really_ sit there silently or completely still. But he came close.

As he was playing with his thumbs and humming some non-descript tune, he felt a hand settle over his. Immediately, his entire body stiffened up.

Ariel used one of his own hands to open up one of Stiles', and the other to give him a piece of string, tried together at the ends. Stiles held it up and looked at it with a confused look on his face.

"Ever heard of Cat's Cradle?" Ariel asked.

Stiles just nodded. He didn't really know what to say. Apparently, he never knew what to say around this boy.

"Well… there you go."

"Huh?"

Ariel looked up from the book he had just gone back to reading. "Do it."

Stiles was confused. "Do what?"

Ariel sighed, although, it didn't sound like a frustrated sigh. Not like the ones Stiles' dad, or Scott's mom, or anyone else for that matter, often let out around Stiles. He didn't know what it sounded like, but it wasn't that.

Ariel set his book down over his thigh and took the string back. For some reason, that made Stiles a little upset. He then proceeded to turn the string, put his fingers through small openings, forming an intricate pattern. Once he was done, he held his handy work up to show Stiles.

Cat's Cradle.

"Here," he said handing the string back to Stiles. "Do it."

Stiles sat there trying to replicate every single move Ariel had just done for the duration on the practice.

Before he knew it, he looked up, and everyone was headed for the lockers. He looked over to his left, and realized that Ariel was no longer sitting there.

Stiles stood up and searched for the boy. He looked everywhere until he saw him, talking to Danny and Jackson.

He started to walk over, but then he stopped himself. Danny he could handle. Danny may not favor Stiles over anyone, but he was nice enough to not ever say that. Jackson however, that was a whole different story. So he turned and went to the locker rooms. He figured he could give the string back whenever the next time he ran into Ariel was.

But as he was walking to the locker rooms, he heard a shuffling in the trees next to him. He looked over to see what it was, and that was when a hand reached out and pulled him in. he tired to scream but another hand was covering his mouth.

He had clenched his eyes shut so the only thing that calmed him down was the sentence he heard next.

"Calm down before I rip your throat out."

He opened his eyes immediately after that and glared at the person pinning him to a tree. The person who causes his heart to nearly spring from his chest on a daily basis.

"WHAT, Derek?" Stiles spits out as vehemently as he can.

Derek raises his eyebrows and smirks.

Stiles goes on. "You know, it's not like you don't have a phone, you _could_ just text me. '_Hey, Stiles I need a favor.'_ What would be so damn hard ab-"

"Shut up, Stiles."

Stiles does exactly that, but not because Derek told him to. No, he would never do that. He shuts up because of the shock of how rude Derek could truly be.

Well, when he thought about it, it really shouldn't have been much of a shock. Derek had the people skills of a rabid dog.

No pun intended.

"What do you want, Derek? I really want to go home," Stiles all but whined.

Derek rolled his eyes. "Who's that?" He then asked, pointing in the general direction of Jackson, from what Stiles could see.

"Uh… that's Jackson. Aren't dogs supposed to be able to-" That earned him a smack to the side of the head.

"Not Jackson. _Him_."

Stiles just then realized that Derek was pointing towards Ariel.

"Oh, him?" He said, rubbing the side of his head. "That's just Ariel. Danny's new boyfriend." He didn't know why, but for some reason, Stiles felt something stir in the pit of his stomach after saying that.

Derek narrowed his eyes as he appeared to be examining the boy more closely. He tilted his head up and Stiles saw his nose twitch a bit.

"He smells weird," Derek deadpanned.

Stiles sighed. "Derek, I'm sure he smells like some indescribable smell, but I need to change and go home so I can take a shower."

Derek quit smelling the air and looked at Stiles, one eyebrow arched. "For what?" he scoffed. "You didn't do anything."

And with that comment Stiles turned and left Derek in his dust. He heard the werewolf yell out something along the lines of, "Find out where he's from," or something like that.

Stiles took a lot longer than usual changing today, probably because the only thing he could focus on was Jackson and Danny's conversation. He heard something about Danny not doing something again. And how Danny could never keep something for more than a month.

Stiles wanted to hear more, but he could without actively moving closer to them, since Scott had decided to play sick today.

He was a werewolf. He didn't get colds.

After he finished changing, he followed the crowd outside, where he saw Lydia standing and talking with Ariel. Jackson and Danny were of course headed straight in that direction.

Stiles really wanted to give Ariel back his string. He didn't know why. It was just a string. If the boy wanted it back, he would have asked for it back by now. But, Stiles was always doing weird things for reasons he never knew.

So he walked over. Even though he knew Jackson would be there. He ignored it, and walked right up to Ariel. He, surprisingly to himself, and unbeknownst to anyone but her, didn't even look in Lydia's direction.

Digging in his pocket awkwardly, Stiles pulled the string out and held it out towards Ariel.

"Here," Stiles said, huge, dopey smile pasted into his face.

Ariel just looked at him for a second, before he realized what Stiles' intention was. Then, he smiled and took the string back.

"You could have kept it, Stiles."

Stiles, now feeling as dumb as he probably just looked, scratched the back of his neck. "I just wasn't sure… so I… yeah."

Jackson huffed and rolled his eyes. "It's string, Stillinski. Now go away."

Normally, Stiles would have had something to say, but today, he just wasn't up to it, so he just turned and started to walk away.

"Hey, Stiles! Wait."

Stiles turned around to see Danny hitting Jackson on the shoulder and looking in his direction, an awkward smile on his face.

"Yeah?"

Danny smiled at him and motioned him back over.

"We're going to this party. Did you wanna come along? Or did you have plans or… something…"

It felt like Danny trailed off after saying that because he knew the answer to his question was a big, fat, 'NO.'

"Oh, come on! Don't invite him out with us!" Jackson cried in disgust.

Stiles kind of just stood there for a minute, unsure of what to say. Sure, he could just say he had plans, but who would he be fooling? Everyone knew that his only friend was Scott and as far as they knew, he was sick.

He could say that he wanted to go, but just how uncomfortable would that be? Being around with Jackson all night. Doing his best not to stare at Lydia. Trying to make small talk with Danny.

"Sure."

And that was how his night began…

* * *

Stiles was sure that he was going to die before he the night had even really begun.

While Lydia went on and on about whatever she could think of in conversation with Ariel and Danny, Jackson just stared at Stiles. Stiles tried his best to ignore it, turning to whoever was close by and trying to join into their conversation. A couple times he tried to talk to Ariel, but whenever Stiles would so much as look in the boy's direction, Jackson would deepen his glare even more.

Which meant Jackson spent the better portion of his night trying to burn Stiles into oblivion with his line of vision. But eventually, Lydia walked over and stole Jackson's attention back.

Stiles, finally feeling free from the metaphorical prison he was in, walked off in search of something to drink. It was a party after all, there had to be something to drink.

As he walked around, he looked for some familiar faces. Someone to talk to. But no one jumped out at him. At a party of at least o a hundred people, Stiles could find so much as a single _acquaintance_ to talk to.

Not even someone who looked like he might have sat by them in class once.

He figured that it was going to be a long, lonely night, and he regretted even coming. Why had he come anyways? He could think of every reason why he shouldn't have agreed to come along, but for some unknown reason, the universe decided that today, Genim Stillinski was going to do something stupid. And so here he was, at a party at someone's house who he didn't even know, when he should have just gone home.

And he was going to _wish_ that he had just gone home.

Stiles walked into the house of whoever's party it was, still in search of something to drink. The music was so loud, he couldn't hear himself think. People were looking at him as he tried to get past, all moving around in exaggerated motions, bumping into him. It was like they didn't even care that he was there.

It took him a while to get through the main level of the house, but after shoving a few people out of the way, and being shoved back twice as hard, Stiles made his way to the stairs.

Making his way up, he looked around. There wasn't anyone up here. It was quiet, save for the subtle thumping of music radiating from the level below. Starting off down the hallway, he decided to look for a quiet place to just sit down for a while. It wasn't that Stiles was anti social. These people were just anti him.

As Stiles was walking, he heard a thump.

"Unnngh…"

Stiles stilled for a second, trying to figure out which direction the sound came from.

"Gnnnngh…"

That time it was louder. He turned around and walked towards it. He didn't know why he walked towards it. But, again, today the universe just wished all but death upon him.

The closer he got to the back of the hallway, the louder the sounds got. Thumping, groaning… it wasn't like Stiles didn't know what was going on. In his head he kept telling himself, '_turn around, Stiles.' 'This isn't a good idea, Stiles.' 'You already know what they're doing, Stiles.'_ But no matter what he told himself, his feet kept moving him forward.

Until he was in front of the door.

"Fuck. Ahhhhh… y… eah."

And he knew just what was going to be on the other side of that door when he opened it. But that didn't stop him.

"Ahhhhh… ahhhh…"

And so he opened the door…

And when he opened the door, what he saw was, in fact, the _last_ thing he expected to see.

"HEY! GET-" Danny paused midsentence as soon as he looked up and realized just who it was he was yelling at. And when he saw Stiles standing there, eyes wide as saucers, Danny went completely silent.

The other guy in the room, the one who was on his knees, in front of Danny, he didn't have anything to say either. And apparently he felt the tension between Stiles and Danny because he swiftly mad himself decent and rushed past Stiles, out of the room and down the hallway.

Stiles didn't know what to say, so he just stood there, looking at anything but Danny as the boy started to make himself decent.

"You can't say anything," Danny mumbled.

Stiles finally looked up and saw Danny slipping his shoes on.

"You… were just having sex," Stiles said, more so trying to clarify it for himself than anything else.

Danny stood up and walked over. "You can't say _anything," _he repeated, nodding his head so as to make sure Stiles understood him.

Stiles heard him, but he wasn't really listening.

"With someone who wasn't Ariel."

"Stiles look-"

"You were totally just cheating on him, dude!"

Danny had the decency to look ashamed for a moment before talking.

"I know, Stiles, I… I don't know. The guy just kept dancing with me, and I'm more than a little drunk… I… just… you _can't say anything_."

Stiles just stared at Danny for a few seconds before nodding. It didn't feel right to agree to it, but it wasn't his place to say anything either. After all, he had only really had one actual conversation with Ariel; it wasn't like they were friends. He wasn't responsible for telling the boy anything. At least, that what he said. But that's not how he felt.

Stiles _felt_ more uneasy than he ever had in his entire life.

As soon as Danny saw Stiles agree, he noticeably relaxed and smiled, and then walked out of the room.

"Your belt isn't buckled, Danny," Stiles pointed out as the other teen was making his was towards the stairs.

Danny looked down and fixed himself. "Thanks," was all he said.

* * *

Needless to say, Stiles didn't stay upstairs.

After the encounter with Danny in the bedroom, Stiles followed the boy back down to the party. And that was when things started to get really awkward.

Stiles sat there and watched as Danny hugged all over Ariel, kissing his neck, feeling him in places that should only be felt in the privacy of a bedroom. (He tried his best not to think of that.) And he watched as Ariel blushed and grinned so much Stiles was sure the boys face was going to explode.

And what was even worse was that all of the sudden, Danny was being extremely nice to Stiles. Not that the boy had ever been particularly mean to him, but he had never been this nice before. Danny was pulling Stiles around, introducing him to people, including him into conversations, handing him the long awaited drinks he wanted.

Stiles took one sip of the punch and knew that it had been spiked, so he sipped on them as slowly as possible so as not to get so much as buzzed. That wouldn't go over well if someone was to somehow spot him and report back to his dad, the sheriff.

Regardless though, the rest of the party hadn't been nearly as bad as the beginning was. People were talking to him, and he didn't feel like such an outsider anymore. But it was still awkward.

But, nothing was as awkward as when Jackson pulled Danny away to go take part in some beer related game, and Stiles was left all alone with Ariel. Danny had been reluctant at first, probably not wanting to leave Ariel alone with the only person who knew about what he had done. But, after a whole lot of prodding from Jackson's end, Danny went. Not before shooting Stiles a questioning glance, though. One that Stiles responded too with a nod of his own.

Once he was alone with Ariel, Stiles turned to the boy, and his stomach began to turn. Ariel was watching Danny with such a look of adoration on his face. It was almost the type of look a puppy watches its owner with. Like they were the only thing in the world.

"I think I love him."

"Huh?"

Ariel looked over to Stiles and smiled. It was the small, gentle smile that Stiles had gotten used to seeing on his face.

"I think I'm in love with Danny," Ariel said, his eyes drifting back over to his boyfriend.

"Oh…" was all Stiles got out.

"I know I haven't been here that long, and we have been dating even less time than that, but… I don't know. Danny's just… different. He's not like anyone else I've ever dated before."

Stiles sat his cup down after finishing the last remnants of the punch. He looked at his fingers for a while before he started to fidget with his thumbs again. It wasn't just something he did when he was bored, it was a habit. And when he was nervous, it became worse.

"That's uh… great, Ariel," he said.

Ariel looked back towards Stiles. Seeing the boy playing with his thumbs again, Ariel laughed a bit. Then he put his hands over Stiles' and held them still.

"You know, whenever my mind is racing, I just focus on one thing."

Stiles looked up from where Ariel's hands were over top of his, and into the boy's eyes.

And he felt his heart skip a beat.

"Like what?" he asked.

Ariel shrugged and smiled. "I don't know. Anything, I guess. I just pick something, and I stare at it for a really long time."

Stiles heard what he said, but he didn't respond, because he was too busy doing just what Ariel said. He was staring into the boy's eyes. There was just something about them. They were just captivating. They were so much clearer than most peoples; the whites of them were so much whiter. And that made the contrast between the white and deep brown so much more striking.

But they weren't piercing. Nothing about Ariel's eyes was aggressive. Nothing about _Ariel_ was aggressive.

Everything was just… pretty.

"You have pretty eyes."

And as soon as Stiles said that, he wanted to kick himself in the face. He wanted a big, gaping hole to open up and swallow him whole. And he wanted to stop blushing.

"Thanks," Ariel offered quietly. "And thanks for the other day too."

"Huh?"

"You called me pretty."

Stiles looked away again.

"Oh yeah…"

"I mean, if you wanna take it back…" Ariel said jokingly.

Stiles thought he was serious.

"No! No! I just, you're not a girl. I know it must get irritating when people mistake you for one."

Ariel nodded his head from left to right slightly.

"Ehh… doesn't really bother me," he said.

Stiles nodded, not saying anything more. Not knowing what more to say.

"I've never been called _pretty_ before…"

"What?" Stiles asked.

"I've never had anyone call me pretty. That's a new one," Ariel answered, small smile on his face.

Stiles looked back to his thumbs again.

"Well… you are…" he pretty much whispered.

* * *

The party didn't go on for much longer after that, people starting to leave out slowly until eventually, everything died down around two in the morning. Stiles was more than ready to just get home and get into bed.

As he hopped into his jeep, he looked over to Ariel and saw the boy wave. Well, he was doing his best to wave with Danny wrapped around him like an octopus. After being playfully pushed away, Danny smiled and waved as well.

Stiles waved back and was just about to close his door and head home when someone all but ripped the door off its hinges.

Grabbing his chest after having a miniature heart attack, Stiles looked over to see Jackson sneering at him.

"Look, Stillinski. I don't know what's going on inside of that twisted, little mind of yours, but I'm not stupid," he seethed.

"What are you-"

"Shut up," Jackson demanded. "I can see the dopey little look you get on your face when you talk to Ariel. I'm sure he sees it too, but he's just too damn nice to say that it's fucking _weird_."

Stiles didn't even try to get anything in during this pause.

"Stay away from Ariel, Stillinski. He's _Danny's _boyfriend. And even if he wasn't, he sure as hell wouldn't go for _you_."

And with that, Jackson slammed the door to Stiles' jeep closed and marched off to his Porsche and Lydia across the street.

And Stiles just sat there, watching as Danny and Jackson's cars drove off. He just sat there and thought about what Jackson had said.

'_He sure as hell wouldn't go for you.'_

And, no matter how many times Stiles replayed that through his head over and over for the rest of the night, he couldn't put his finger on why it hurt so much.

**_So, now that i more or less know what this story is going to be about, i am gonna try and update it as regularly as possible. I'm in school, so... no promises lol. But just so we're clear: Scott is a werewolf and Derek and all of that does come into play. I am in an AU however, and so Jackson isnt anything supernatural, Allison and Scott have broken up for real, and many things wont coincide with the way the actual show panned out. hopefully you can still follow it once we et a bit deeper into the plot. AND, i usually start off at a very slow pace, so if this all seems kind of menial to you, just please be patient. It will pick up soon i promise. _**

**_OH and before i forget, Derek is gonna be around alot. Like i said, i start off slow. So, yeah... lol._**


	3. Chapter 3

_**3.**_

It's not that Stiles wanted Ariel to 'go for him'. He just wondered why Jackson was so sure he wouldn't. Stiles was funny, he cared about people, he was nice, and he wasn't ugly. So what was wrong with him?

Nothing. At least he couldn't think of anything. Except that he talked too much. And maybe his inability to be quiet and still for more than five seconds irritated people. That could have been it…

So maybe there _were_ some things wrong with Stiles. But he didn't think that made him _completely _unappealing.

And that was something that he could easily wrap his head around as he laid in his bed. Stiles had never had a girlfriend, and no girl had ever even showed any interest in him. Whenever he was around, they just seemed to run in all the opposite directions. Like he was some type of plague. Maybe he was.

Lydia didn't even look at him. It was like he didn't even exist in her mind. Even when he was right in front of her, he was a ghost. All she ever paid any attention to was Jackson.

And Stiles hated Jackson.

It would be okay if the guy dated the fucking girl of Stiles' dreams and he wasn't such a jerk. Then at least Stiles would get it. But no, Jackson was one of the lowest people Stiles had ever had the displeasure of stumbling across in his very young life, and he just couldn't grasp what was so great about the guy that Lydia just couldn't give him up.

He was rich. Big deal. He was _objectively _good looking. So what? Jackson Whitmore was a horrible human being.

And that was Stiles kept repeating to himself for the next ten minutes as Derek stood in his window sill watching him talk to himself.

Eventually though, Derek let out a huff and Stiles almost had a heart attack.

"Derek! Oh. My. God!" Stiles cried at the top of his lungs. He felt relieved his father wasn't home or else he would be in some big trouble, and Derek would be getting shot.

"Did you talk to him?" Derek asked with a slight laugh to his voice.

Stiles couldn't believe his ears when he heard it. A laugh? Coming from Derek? There was just no way. He had to be hearing things.

"Talk to who?" Stiles shot back with an irritated tone, sitting up to look the werewolf in the eye.

"That mermaid guy," Derek replied.

"Mermaid guy… Oh! You mean Ariel?" Derek nodded. "Was that a _Little Mermaid_ reference? Derek? No way."

Rolling his eyes, Derek pushed away from the window and walked over to Stiles bookshelf. "I had a childhood."

"I'm sure…"

"So?"

Stiles watched as Derek went through his bookshelf for the umpteenth time. He didn't know why the guy did it every time he came in the room. It wasn't like Stiles ever put anything new over there. Whatever books he was reading at the time, Stiles got from either school or the library. And they stayed on his desk until he was done with them and they went back.

"I mean, I didn't ask him his life story, Derek. What do you want me to say? '_Hey, Ariel. I know you don't really know me, but where are you from and why are you here and oh yeah, my friend says you smell weird, so what do you use when you take showers?_"

"He might take baths…"

Stiles swore he was about to faint. "Since when do you have a sense of humor? Your idea of a joke used to be shoving me up against walls and growling your hot, dog breath in my face."

Derek growled and went over to the desk and sat in the chair. Same thing he always did.

"Stiles I'm serious. He doesn't seem right," Derek said with a more serious tone to his voice.

"Well then why aren't you asking Scott to do something then?" Stiles asked.

Derek stood up and went back to the window, which Stiles was fully sure that was closed earlier, and put one leg out before turning to face Stiles. "You're smarter." And with that, the man was gone.

Stiles was caught off guard by the comment, but he had to agree. Scott wasn't the sharpest tool on the shed; in fact, Scott wasn't even in the shed at all. Stiles loved the guy, but he was pretty dumb.

And so Stiles was finally able to get some sleep without all of the heavy thoughts from earlier keeping him awake.

* * *

On Monday, Stiles felt well rested and was prepared to take on the day and anything it threw at him. He was in such a good mood, that when Scott came over with that pained expression on his face, Stiles actually meant it when he asked what was wrong.

"Allison is seeing someone," Scott sighed.

Stiles couldn't say that he wasn't surprised. When Allison left Scott, he didn't really take it seriously. They always had fights. Stiles just thought they were going to end up getting back together in the next two weeks. That's why he never really showed much support when Scott got like this. But to hear that the girl was seeing someone else, that was a shocker.

"Who?" Stiles asked, closing his locker and turning to head to the cafeteria.

Suddenly, Scott's face went from pained, to furious within a matter of nano-seconds. Stiles would have found it funny if… well, he _did_ find it funny. But he didn't laugh. That would have been mean.

"That Matt guy," Scott spat out. And then he looked over to the left where Stiles eventually did too, and sure enough, he saw Allison and Matt, sitting next to each other.

It wasn't like they were doing anything, really. They were just talking. But she had that look on her face that she used to get when she talked to Scott. So, Stiles understood.

"Screw Allison, Scott. If she's moving on, you should too." Stiles tried to give his best supportive tone. And, last year, it would have been needed. But now, Scott could really just about get any girl he wanted. The whole werewolf thing had really helped him beef up. And he had the whole innocent thing going for him. Girls threw themselves at him constantly, but having been so wrapped up in Allison, of course he never noticed.

Stiles noticed.

And so had Allison. Which, now that Stiles thought about it, was probably why she had broken up with Scott. Though, it wasn't fair to him. Scott never did anything. She just let her jealousy get the best of her, Stiles guessed.

But yeah, Scott could pull another girl easy. He could even get a guy if he wanted. Stiles could remember once when Scott tackled Danny on the field during practice, and Danny couldn't stop blushing after Scott gave him one of those lopsided grins of his and helped him up.

Old chick magnet Scott.

Stiles wished he had been the one to get bitten and turn all sexy. Not that he wanted any of the werewolf problems that come along with being bitten. Like full moon crazy nights, and hearing everything. Stiles already heard enough in his own head, he didn't need to hear other people talking too. No, Stiles just wanted the sexy part.

Stiles had been thinking so much about what it would have been like to suddenly get any girl he wanted, that when he walked directly past Lydia, he hadn't even seen her. And he also hadn't noticed the way she had flipped her hair when he walked by. And he definitely didn't see her face when he walked straight by.

But he did see Ariel in front of him, being molested by Danny… unsurprisingly. Stiles had finally come to the conclusion that Danny wanted to permanently conjoin bodies with the boy the way he was always wrapped around him from behind.

"Hey, Ariel," Scott yelled walking over to the two.

Stiles was lost. Since when did Scott know the guy? The last he checked, Scott barely even knew his name.

But he followed Scott over and watched as Ariel smiled in their direction. Whether it was directed towards Scott, or because Danny appeared to be trying to eat his ear, Stiles wasn't sure.

"Hey, Scott. Stiles."

Stiles just waved.

Danny relinquished his hold on the boy and walked over to throw an arm around Stiles.

"Hey! What's up, Stiles? How you been?" The slightly taller teen asked.

Scott had this confused look on his face.

"I didn't know you two were that close…" he said.

Stiles shook his head. "We're no-"

"Yeah! I love this guy. He went to a party with us on Friday," Danny all but shouted, shaking Stiles a little.

Scott looked to Stiles.

"You went to a party?" He sounded like he was in disbelief. Stiles could admit to being a little hurt by that.

"Yeah, I mean… Danny invited me and… I went… I guess?"

Stiles didn't really know what was happening right then. Yeah, he knew he had gone to the party, but that was it. It wasn't like he and Danny hung out the whole time and suddenly became best friends. In fact, they barely spoke at all. Stiles couldn't remember having but one real conversation with the guy the entire night.

And that conversation wasn't necessarily something that made friends.

Danny finally took his arm from around Stiles' shoulders and began to walk towards the table he normally sat at, with Jackson, Lydia, and Ariel.

"You should come sit with us, Stiles," Danny offered.

Stiles all but fell out onto the floor. He was so confused right then, but he just nodded.

"Sure… can Scott-"

"Of course, yeah," Danny said, following behind Ariel who had and apple and box of salad in his hands. "Just get your food and come over."

Stiles nodded again ad turned around, where he was met with a very skeptical looking Scott.

"What was that all about?" his best friend asked.

Stiles shrugged. "I don't know."

"So you wanna sit with them?"

Stiles looked over his shoulder to where Danny was pulling Ariel into his lap, and felt something in his stomach again.

"It would be rude not to, right?"

* * *

Stiles watched Jackson's face as he neared the table. And then he noticed the way the guy's eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he and Scott sat their trays down onto said table.

"NO! NO! GET THE FUCK UP STILLINSKI! YOU CAN NOT SIT HERE!"

Stiles didn't ignore the way he had nothing to say to Scott. He made a note to ask his friend about that at some point.

"Jackson, you're such a girl…" Ariel drawled as he rolled his eyes. He was in a seat now, and Danny was leaning over to whisper something in Jackson's ear. And as soon as he did, Jackson glared at Stiles with such intensity that he thought that the guy might actually succeed in hurting him this time.

"You're one to talk…" Jackson mumbled.

"Shut up," Ariel shot back.

"Make me."

Ariel threw a cherry tomato at Jackson and hit him square on the nose, and then hid behind Danny when Jackson tried to grab at him, both Ariel and Jackson laughing the entire time.

Stiles just looked on in disbelief. Not so much at Ariel, but at Jackson. There was a smile on his face. And not one of those devious, evil, smirks Jackson got all the time either. It was a real, genuine smile. Accompanied by laughter. Stiles was beginning to think that this whole day had been a dream.

And he continued to think that for the rest of lunch. The entire time, Danny and Scott were talking about lacrosse stuff, and Jackson was hovering between talking with Lydia, and playing around with Ariel. Literally, playing!

Ariel threw food at Jackson. Jackson would throw paper at Ariel. They would hit each other. Once Ariel even missed and threw an open ketchup packet at Jackson getting it all over his sweater. Stiles had expected all hell to break loose, but all Jackson did was laugh and take the sweater off.

So, when Stiles was walking out of the cafeteria next to Scott, there were a lot of things that didn't make sense to him anymore. But Scott was the one who asked the first question.

"You barely paid Lydia any attention that whole time, Stiles. You think you're finally getting over her?"

Stiles paused. Had he really not paid the girl any mind that entire time? Once he thought about it, he realized that no, he hadn't. He hadn't even really looked her way other than when she happened to be in his line of vision. That was weird.

Maybe he _was_ getting over his crush in her.

"Huh… I guess so…"

* * *

Stiles sat in front of his computer trying to conceive a thought good enough to include in the essay he was in dire need of beginning. So far, the only thing he had gotten down was the title page. And he wasn't even sure if he was completely satisfied with that.

Eventually he gave up and leaned back in his chair to let out a loud sigh. Stiles knew he wasn't going to get anything done if he didn't concentrate, but he couldn't. Not on the paper at least. Stiles' mind was fixated on Lydia, and why he hadn't been paying her any attention lately.

In the back of his mind, Stiles knew why. He knew exactly what, or _who_ it was that was keeping Lydia from his thoughts.

It was Ariel.

But Stiles didn't want to admit that right now. He wasn't _ready _to admit that right now. He wasn't ready to admit that the reason he had all but forgotten about the girl of his dreams was because of some guy he had just met.

Stiles wasn't into guys. Or, he didn't think he was. He had ever been interested before, so why would he all o the sudden be now? There wasn't even any reason for him to be so infatuated with the boy. They had barely had two whole conversations.

But, Stiles did remember the way his heart stopped and restarted when Ariel grabbed his hands. But, that wasn't because Stiles had a crush on him. His heart never stopped when he looked at Lydia.

But then, she never even grazed him let alone took his hands into her own.

Still, it didn't mean Stiles had a crush. It just meant that he was surprised. Yeah, that was it. Stiles was surprised by it. He didn't expect any form of physical contact and when he felt it, his body reacted.

That didn't explain why he had been so adamant about calling Ariel and different parts of his body pretty…

Stiles leaned back and sighed again, only this time, he leaned a little too far and he fell backwards onto the floor with a loud thud.

"What was that, Stiles?!" he heard his father holler up the stairs.

Squirming to upright himself, Stiles stood and rubbed his neck.

"Nothing, Dad!"

Picking the chair up and putting it back under the desk, Stiles walked over to his bed and fell over onto it. He laid there for a few minutes with his face buried deep into his pillow until he heard his father call his name again.

"Stiles!"

He rolled over onto his back so that he could yell into the air.

"WHAT!"

"You have company," the sheriff yelled back up.

Stiles hopped up immediately. He just assumed it was Scott since… well since no one else ever came to see him. Not that anyone really should. It wasn't like he had a great, long list of friends who just popped up at random points in the evening.

Not unless you counted Derek and his minions. Stiles could remember vividly the time Erica had climbed through his window as he was getting dressed.

She whistled at him for the next three weeks.

"Tell him to come up," Stiles half yelled, because he knew his dad was already sending Scott up anyway. No formality with that man. You would think that being the sheriff would make someone a bit stricter with house rules. The only rules Stiles had to follow were to be in at a reasonable time on school nights and not leave his underwear in the bathroom.

It was an old habit he was ever quite able to shake, and so since they no longer got left on the bathroom floor, they got strewn out across his bedroom floor. Amongst other things of course.

Stiles was just lying back down when his door opened and someone walked in. the first thing he saw was long, dark brown hair, and in that moment, he knew that Scott wasn't the guest.

It was Ariel.

"Hey," the long haired boy said, looking around.

Stiles shot up instantly and stood at attention. He was more than a little surprised to see him here.

"Hi…" he said. "How do you know where I live?"

Ariel flipped his hair back and pointed out of the window.

"I live across the street. I never knew you lived here until I saw you driving that jeep that night at the party. And then I realized that that was the jeep that I see across the street from me all the time. So, I put two and two together," Ariel explained.

Stiles' mouth was slightly agape, but then he licked his lips quickly and closed it.

"Oh… well… what's up?" Stiles compiled of the top of his head. So many other things were roaming through his head at the moment though, he was shocked that he could even say that much.

"Nothing, really. I just wanted to come over and say hi," Ariel looked around Stiles' room a bit and smiled. "Your rooms a mess."

And as soon as Stiles heard that, he realized that his room looked like a hurricane had just tore through it. He immediately scrambled to pick all the clothes up off of the floor and throw them into the hamper. He was so into it that he didn't see Ariel picking up a few things himself. And amongst those things were Stiles' underwear.

Stiles looked over and saw what he was doing, and his face burst into flames.

In Ariel's hand, was a pair of Stiles' boxers. The worst pair he could possibly pick up; the _Power Rangers_ pair.

"These are cute," Ariel said, laughing a bit.

Stiles snatched everything from Ariel's hands and threw them with the rest of the clothes.

"I… they're not mine," Stiles blurted out.

Ariel's eyes widened.

"Whose are they then?"

"Scott's."

And at that moment Stiles wanted to kill himself more than any other moment in his life. He wanted to just fall into a hole and die. At least then he wouldn't have to die of mortification.

"Oh," was all Ariel offered.

"I mean, he left them here."

"Right."

"When he spent the night, and he borrowed some of my clothes."

"I get it."

"We're not gay," Stiles put in at the last second to a snickering Ariel.

"I didn't think you were."

Walking over to his bed, Stiles sat back down and began to fidget with his thumbs. He hadn't been this nervous since he was almost eaten alive on Scott's first full moon. And even then he had been able to concentrate enough on chaining his best friend up in order to remain alive to not fidget. But he wasn't concentrating on anything right now.

Except the reason he was nervous.

Stiles monitored Ariel's every step, the way he seemed to move so fluidly. It reminded him of Lydia in a way, only Lydia's step had such a force to it. She walked with such power, whereas Ariel seemed to just glide. Until he sat down on the bed beside Stiles, and took his hands again.

"Stop fidgeting. You're making me nervous too."

"I'm not nervous," Stiles lied.

"Good. Because I don't know why anyone would be so uneasy all the time." Ariel replied as he slowly let go of Stiles' hands. Then he looked Stiles directly in the eye. "Remember what I said about focusing?"

Stiles nodded. He remembered vaguely that the boy had said something about how he focused on one thing whenever his min was racing or something along those lines. And Stiles took his advice that time, just as he was now.

Stiles was focusing. On Ariel's eyes.

He knew the boy was talking, only because he could see his mouth moving in the bottom of his line of vision. But Stiles wasn't listening. He wasn't _ignoring_ him either. He just wasn't paying any attention. He was too caught up in staring into the soft, brown warmth of Ariel's eyes.

He could take his mind off of the way they seemed to smile whenever he did. Or how they seemed to have little golden flecks in them that only became visible when the light hit them at just the right angle.

He couldn't look away from them, not even long enough to remember how to breathe, because he seemed to have forgotten how to in between when Ariel started talking and now. But, when he finally did take a breath, he realized that the only thing his nose was able to pick up on were mangos.

And he began to lean in closer, to get a better sense of the smell, until Ariel shifted completely and Stiles fell over.

"Danny. What are you doing here?" Ariel asked as he rose from his spot on the bed to walk over to his boyfriend.

Stiles looked up as he was sitting back up and noticed Danny standing in the doorway with a smile on his face as he proceeded to pull Ariel up into a disgustingly cute embrace.

"I went over to your place, your mom said you were here," Danny said before placing a small kiss to Ariel's lips, causing Stiles to get that weird feeling in the pit of his stomach again. "What are you doing over here?"

Ariel looked back to Stiles and smiled. "Did you know Stiles lived here?"

Danny nodded in affirmation. "Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Ariel complained and smacked Danny on the chest.

Danny shrugged. "I didn't think you cared. It's not like you knew him before Friday."

"True…"

Danny sat Ariel down before walking over to Stiles and pulling him up into a swift, but tight hug.

"What's up?"

Stiles struggled to catch the breath that had been forced out of him with the hug before he could reply.

"Nothing," he said. "I was just trying to work on this essay before I gave up and Ariel showed up."

"Cool. Well, me and Ari are gonna go hang out in his room. I'd ask if you wanted to come over, but…" Danny wiggled his eyebrows a bit and Stiles got the message.

Loud and clear.

"Right! Right, well… I need to get back to work anyways," Stiles sputtered.

"Right. So we'll leave you alone then," Danny said, walking out the doorway with his arm around Ariel's waist.

"Bye, Stiles," Ariel said with a smile on his face.

And when that feeling came back again, Stiles just waved back, with a dumb smile plastered on his.

_**its moving slow, i know, but it will get there. are you at least liking it so fa though? also, if anyone is into beta-ing, and could also explain to me just how that works, let me know. be warned, i have a very unconventional schedule of writing, so you would have to be ready for that lol**_


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